WW1 Au
by highfunctioningtimelordavenger
Summary: Hello, this is an attempt at a WW1 destiel Au. Sorry, there's really not all that much more to say, but I hope that it isn't too bad.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, this story is set during WW1 and not in America, but Britain because it didn't really fit into the story. I will try to update at least once a week because I have a fair idea of where it's going. Also, please feel free to point out any mistakes or grammar issues, because sometime I rush and o bad things. So, I hope that you enjoy it and that it's not too bad.

….

_June 7__th__, 1916_

"You be good Sammy. Uncle Bobby will take care of you just fine." Dean said soothingly, stroking his little brother's hair. Sam's face was coated in a thin layer of tears, his eyes red from crying. "I…I don't want you to go though!" Sammy cried. Bobby, noticing the distress on Dean's face, took hold of Sam's right hand and pulled him away from his brother. "He's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine and Jess is gonna be fine. Everyone is gonna be fine." Bobby said. Sam perked up at the name of his dog, Jess. Dean had bought Jess just last week and Sam already loved her with all his heart. Dean was glad that he had a friend, even if she was just a dog.

"Sammy, I've gotta go now. But I'll be back, I promise. By Christmas at least. And I promise to write to you every week, every day if I can manage." Dean was silently crying too now. Bobby grabbed hold of him and held him close. "You be good now boy. I'll miss you. And I'll make a promise too. I promise you that Sammy will be well cared for and awaiting your return." Bobby said in his usual gruff voice. Dean smiled faintly at the man who he'd thought of as a father for most of his life.

Dean stepped onto the boat; turning away from the two people he loved the most in the world. He'd miss them, but he'd be back. He just knew it. Sam was still crying, but being only nine years old, it was perfectly acceptable. Dean, however, was seventeen, and he should not be crying at all, especially not as he was wearing his brand new uniform. Dean had been so proud when he first got it; he still was, but it wasn't the same. Standing on the large boat with a huge amount of other guys in the same uniform had made him worried. All of these people were being sent over to replace another man, one who'd either died or was dying. Dean tried hard to shove the thoughts to the back of his mind but it was always going to be there.

The boat was pulling away from the harbour now, and Dean was waving furiously at Sam and Bobby. "BYE! GOODBYE!" he yelled. "I'LL MISS YOU LOADS DEAN!" Sam answered. Dean laughed at that, along with some of his friends on the boat with him. Most of his friends knew Sammy and thought that the boy was adorable. Sammy was adorable, and even just thinking about it got him feeling sad.

Once land was no longer in sight, Dean took off, just wandering around the boat. It was a huge beast of a thing and was carrying around 5,000 men. "Hey, Winchester!" Dean turned around at the sound of his name. "It's me. Garth. Remember?" Dean thought for a moment, and then he did indeed remember. "Oh, hey Garth, never thought I'd see you here." Dean said, a little surprised that the strange man had been allowed into the army.

Garth looked at little distant and then suddenly took off, as if he'd suddenly remembered something. Dean was puzzled for a moment and then continued on his journey. He was walking down the hallway, when he walked into a short man with dark hair. "Erm… sorry, didn't see you there." Dean mumbled. "Oh, it's quite alright." The man smiled. "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. And you are?" "Uhh…. Novak sir, Castiel Novak." "Cool name, and no need for the _sir_, I mean, we're all friend here, no need for formalities." The short man smiled again. "Okay then." "I guess I'll see you around Castiel." Dean said. With that, the short man with dark hair walked off, leaving Dean just standing. _Wow, those were nice eyes, so blue _Dean thought. Dean smiled and continued his walk.


	2. Chapter 2

After a very long, very bumpy boat ride, Dean and his fellow soldiers arrived in Calais. Everyone got off the boat, followed by a green faced Dean Winchester, and stood in line, ready for duty. Dean listened as everyone's name was called out. He was still a little sick, but he didn't want to appear weak in front of these men. "And…Winchester." Dean stood to attention with a quick "Yes sir!" and followed the man.

"Now, you listen here boys, all this time here, you obey ME. No one else, unless I give the order. The name's Crowley, but to you, it's sir. Is that clear?" the man who had lead Dean and these other men here. Crowley's statement was followed by a few mumbled "Yes, sir." 's. "WHAT was THAT?" Crowley yelled. "I want respect!" "YES SIR!" they all chorused. Crowley looked extremely pleased with himself.

"Now, you won't be on the front line for a while, boys, so think yourselves lucky. You'll be doing odd jobs, whatever is asked of you, and you stick together. Now, I know I'm not one for sentiment or any of that shit but think of each other as family and families never leave each other. So, here's where you'll all be staying, so make the most of it before you're moved to the front. The front's full of fucking mud and fucking rats the size of your face." A few of the men shuddered and Crowley walked off, pleased at being able to scare some new ones.

"Hey, is that you? Castiel, wasn't it?" Dean asked, walking towards the same short man from earlier. The man looked startled but relieved. "Oh, it's good to have a familiar face here in our garrison." Castiel said. "Garrison? Never mind, how do you like it so far?" "I'm not too keen on Mr Crowley's language, but I suppose I'll get used to it." Dean made a mental note to watch his mouth around Castiel.

"Bit muddy, isn't it. But I suppose, we aren't at the front. Yet." Castiel continued. It was getting dark, and the men knew that they'd be busy tomorrow so they settled down for the night. Even though they were quite far back, they still heard the whizzing and bangs from the front line.

"Dean, you going to sleep?" Castiel asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"Gotta write a letter, promised Sammy I'd write to him a lot." Dean explained.

"Oh, who's Sammy?"

"My little brother, he's only nine and I love him so much."

Dean and Castiel spent the rest of the evening discussing family, with Dean learning about Castiel's many brothers-Michael, Raphael and a few others that Dean couldn't remember. Dean teared up a little, though he'd never admit it, when discussing his parent's deaths.

Dean had lost his mother when he was nine; with his father following close after. His mother had been struck down with a load of illnesses all at once. His father had died from grief, or so they'd said. Dean had seen the pill bottles on the floor. _Selfish bastard _Dean had thought all of these years. But now that he was older, he could understand it. It would be hard to raise two kids who were the spitting image of your just dead wife, all by yourself. Though that thought didn't make Dean despise him any less.

The boys had been adopted by their uncle, Bobby, who wasn't actually related by blood or marriage to the Winchesters, but was an old family friend. He loved the boys a lot, feeling bad for all they'd had to go through. Other family members paid their condolences and had given Bobby help with raising the boys, but Bobby had enjoyed it thoroughly, having no kids of his own.


End file.
